


A Well-Appreciated Gift

by plothound



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock & Ball Torture, Corset, Corsetry, Dildos, Improvised Sex Toys, Lingerie, M/M, Strap-Ons, Teasing, Trans Male Character, very very slight on that last one but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plothound/pseuds/plothound
Summary: In a vaguely 16th-century world, a minor landowner gets a surprising gift from his lover. It's a raging success, and they try it out immediately.





	A Well-Appreciated Gift

Mykal eyed the package in Roul’s hands. His lover was wealthier than he, and loved to shower him with gifts, usually small things like a new set of buttons, or an intricately detailed brass brooch, or a shapely new stein, but this parcel was rather larger than Mykal was accustomed to seeing, long and narrow. 

 

Roul leaned close. “I have a gift for you, my love,” he breathed. “You’ll adore it, I’ve no doubt, but I couldn’t give it to you earlier; it must be opened in private.”

 

Well, that was… intriguing. Perhaps a little unsettling. But they were in the privacy of Mykal’s bedroom, in the tower of his estate. The tower had no doubt been a bastion a hundred years ago, but the land had been at peace for decades, and castles were rapidly falling out of favor, replaced with fanciful manor houses. Mykal did not have the fortune required to build a new home for himself, but he had made the tower of the old keep as comfortable as possible, filling it with carpets and plush cushions. 

 

He sat down on the canopied bed and untied the twine around the package. The fabric wrapping it fell away in his hands, and he was left to look at a rolled-up object that took him a few moments to place. When he did, his mouth opened, then closed. He looked up at Roul. “Where did you get this?”

 

Roul lowered himself onto the bed and slid up close. “Made to measure just for you, my love.” His breath tickled Mykal’s ear. “I sent my manservant to order it, with authorization to pay the corsetiere any price she set forth, and extra for her silence.”

 

Mykal unrolled the corset and ran a thumb over the stays in their neatly-stitched channels. It looked very different from the other corsets he’d seen—those of his mother and sisters, which he’d brought into town for mending and adjustment on several occasions. Those had had a pronounced curve on each end, with a deep dip in the middle and a second, smaller dip toward the bottom. This was, firstly, much larger than any of those, and secondly, much less curved. He turned it over in his hands, wondering, and absently fingered the pale silk cord that hung from the brass eyelets.

 

“How do you like the color?” Roul asked. He reached out and stroked the deep blue velvet—this was not a usual fabric for a corset, surely—and draped his other arm over Mykal’s shoulders. “I thought it would suit you.”

 

Mykal shook his head slowly. “I… wouldn’t know.” He rubbed the lace trim. Roul’s longer, cleverer fingers snaked up alongside his own and began to trace the intricate floral patterns in the lace. “You mean me to wear this?”

 

“Well, naturally,” Roul said. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of Mykal’s neck. “I think you shall look very fetching.” He pulled back a little to get a better look at Mykal’s expression. “And your thoughts on the matter?”

 

“I don’t believe I currently have any at all,” Mykal said after a moment. 

 

Roul smiled and leaned back in, the warmth of his body flowing generously into Mykal’s side and shoulder. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve never wondered what you might look like in intimate finery? I’ve been absolutely plagued by the image very nearly since I met you. Oh, my love, your form is exquisite in and of itself, but even the finest painting may be accentuated by an appropriate frame.”

 

Mykal smiled a little despite himself. Roul had a talent for poetic exaggeration, a talent that annoyed Mykal greatly in anyone but his lover. In Roul, it was tolerable—no, endearing. That penchant for dramatics was deeply entertaining when applied to most things, and sometimes positively titillating when applied to the obscene. When they spoke intimately, Mykal always stuttered and hesitated, and when Roul had first panted sweet filth into his collarbones when they laid together, he’d flushed darker than most apples were capable of. He’d largely managed to cure himself of the blushes, and the  _ things  _ that Roul told him now often sent thrills shooting down his spine and pooling between his legs instead of making him stare at the floor, but he had no talent for words, and he still tripped over them when he tried to return the favor.

 

Roul didn’t seem to mind. He nuzzled Mykal’s neck and nosed along his jaw. “Might I have the honor of helping you into it?”

 

Mykal turned the corset over in his hands again and tested the soft lining. He was not at all sure, in truth, but he was free of obligations until the evening, when his aunt would visit, and it would be rude to turn down the gift. “If you like.”

 

Roul leapt to his feet with his usual birdlike movements. He was tall and thin, and rather reminded Mykal, with the greatest possible fondness, of an egret. He wore a thick doublet and billowy, slashed pants in an attempt to disguise the resemblance, but it was still unmistakable, and Mykal knew that if he were to put a hand around Roul’s thigh, he would be able to grip right through the fabric and stretch his fingers more than halfway around.

 

Mykal was startled out of thoughts of gripping Roul’s thighs when those long fingers were suddenly brushing his neck as they undid the buttons of his doublet. He quickly moved to help, starting from the bottom. 

 

Roul gave him a sly grin. “Distracted, my love?”

 

Roul always distracted him, and the man damn well knew it. He didn’t deign to answer, instead opting to get to his feet and shrug out of the doublet. He wore a simple linen shirt underneath, one that was quickly discarded. Mykal’s grandfather had attained the tower and the lands around it through service in war, and the martial tradition had continued in his descendants. Consequently, Mykal was a large, muscular man, powerfully built and equipped with that certain rough grace common to trained soldiers, rather than Roul’s delicate, precise elegance. He rather enjoyed the contrast between himself and Roul. He loved to put his large hands around Roul’s narrow waist, lie curled up about him like a wolfhound about a cat— 

 

The corset was wrapped around his torso before he realized what was happening, and he shifted a little in surprise. Roul grinned at him. “It laces up the back, my love.”

 

Mykal hesitated briefly before nodding. “Do it.”

 

He had expected Roul to adjust the corset’s position before continuing, as it seemed to sit rather low, but instead, it stayed just where it was, and those long fingers went straight to weaving the silk cord back and forth through the eyelets, far faster than Mykal would have been able to. In no time at all, the cord had crawled all the way up his spine to the top of the corset, and Mykal braced himself for whatever might come next.

 

He was surprised when the fingers started at the bottom again, lacing a second length of cord. Of course, Roul had done only half of the eyelets on the first run. They started quickly, but then they slowed down. This second half felt much more intimate. The cord had to be looped under and over the first one, slipping in and out between the edges of the corset. Roul’s fingers had been dancing before, but now they were waltzing, slowly and with pronounced flair, showing off their considerable skill. The free end of the cord became shorter and shorter. It drew a long, slow, sashaying line up Mykal’s back as it neared its goal. He found himself breathing more deeply than usual.

 

Then Roul splayed his fingers between Mykal’s shoulder blades. “All done, my dear. Now it need only be tightened and fastened.” His pointed chin rested on Mykal’s shoulder, and his voice tickled as he whispered, “Would you like to see yourself?”

 

“Suppose so,” Mykal said. He wasn’t looking forward to tightening the corset; it seemed tight and awkward enough already. But Roul was clearly enjoying himself, and he ought to have his fun. Besides, it would be a shame not to have a look. He turned and padded over to the mirror in the corner. The corset forced him to stand rather straighter than usual.

 

He stopped dead when he saw himself. For a moment, he was unable to speak.

 

He had never looked like this before, not remotely. He did not often use the mirror, though it was one of his most expensive possessions, so he was not intimately familiar with his own appearance, but he felt quite certain that neither he nor anyone in his family had ever looked so… 

 

“Perfect,” Roul murmured, stepping up behind him and leaning on him, bony chest against his back. “You look absolutely perfect.”

 

Not the word Mykal would have chosen, perhaps, but he found that he had no idea what word he might have put in its place. The man in the mirror looked just as dazed as he felt, but he also looked more strikingly sensual than anyone he had ever seen. The corset wrapped around his torso well enough, which was about as much as Mykal hoped for in his clothing, but it also smoothed out some things and exaggerated others, and the way it cupped his chest made him feel… presented. Like a work of art.

 

Roul nuzzled him gently. “I  _ knew  _ it’d look stunning,” he purred. Saints,  _ purring,  _ like a smug cat. His long fingers drummed on Mykal’s chest. “See how it sculpts you, my love.” He slipped a hand around Mykal’s back and allowed it to creep the front of the corset, tracing the center seam. Mykal noticed with some surprise that there was a light pattern pressed into the velvet, full of curling leaves and stems.

 

Roul pressed the tips of his fingers to the top edge of the corset, which fitted perfectly along the line of Mykal’s chest as it ran around from his ribs, and then rose to a rounded peak at his breastbone. Ruffled lace stood tall along the top, sticking up in several inches’ worth of delicate white tracery. Mykal had seen women’s dresses cut lower than that lace, but the transparency and the unbroken line from throat to shoulder and down his powerful arms felt somehow much more obscene. He admonished himself at that—he was a  _ man,  _ wearing an expensive velvet  _ corset  _ from his expensive lover, of course it felt obscene.

 

Roul’s fingers snaked up to brush ever so gently across one lace-covered nipple, and Mykal let out an audible gasp as something lit up in his belly. Roul chuckled and pressed himself harder against Mykal’s back, making contact from nape to thighs. His doublet’s cold buttons touched Mykal’s skin all along the gap down the middle of the corset, the brocade rubbed rough to the touch, and soft lips planted a light kiss on the side of his neck.

 

“We’re going to have such fun, my love.”

 

Mykal, never one to pass up an invitation that obvious, immediately reached to drop his trousers, but Roul caught his wrists. “No, dear, I’ll take care of that.” Mykal obediently held his hands still, despite the growing urge, and waited for Roul to make a move. He wasn’t entirely certain how patient he was going to be, but he would be polite for a little while, at least; Roul sometimes liked to start slowly.

 

He was more than a little startled, then, when Roul stepped in front of him, dropped to his knees, and began mouthing his cock through his trousers. He closed his eyes and made an undignified sound, to which Roul responded with something that was almost a giggle. The fingers of his left hand were pried apart and interlaced with long, thin ones that were cool to the touch, and he gripped them hard as his cock began to rise. 

 

Roul was a man of precision and detail, and Mykal was of the opinion that these traits made him a better lover than he himself would likely ever be. Roul would protest otherwise, of course, but the measured efficiency with which he could turn Mykal into a panting, dripping mess was nothing short of a wonder in Mykal’s eyes. He was an artist in this, the gangly egret-shaped man, and Mykal was honored to be his canvas.

 

A delicate squeeze of his balls made him shudder, and Roul’s little huff of amusement in response made him open his eyes again, ready to throw out a dirty look. The sight he saw in the mirror was more than enough to stop him in his tracks. 

 

Roul had been between his legs before, of course, and vice versa, and Mykal had even caught glimpses of them together in the mirror before, but it had never been like this. Roul’s dark hair was bobbing between his legs, back moving sinuously, free hand between his own narrow thighs—how had he not noticed  _ that,  _ at least—and there was a red flush across Mykal’s chest, rather like the one he was accustomed to seeing on Roul, and it had crawled up his throat as well. It accented the corset beautifully, and the way he was breathing harder now made his chest surge above the edge, a movement made all the more visible by the slight touch of sweat, and together they made an absolute vision.

 

“Roul,” Mykal said. He had intended it to be loving, but it came out shaky. “Roul, you are beautiful.”  

 

Roul looked up at him. He didn’t seem at all bothered or off balance. “Why, thank you, my love. Not as magnificent as you, I expect, but I do appreciate it.” He rose to his feet and ran an appraising eye up and down Mykal’s body. “You look ready.”

 

“I am,” Mykal said immediately. “I am, I very much am.” 

 

“Well, then,” Roul said comfortably, and began stripping out of his clothes. Mykal watched with unguarded lust and an aching cock as the brocade doublet was draped over a chair, followed by the embroidered shirt, and as the supple leather boots were slipped off and lined up neatly nearby, and as the billowing pants were peeled off, leaving only breeches beneath. They were laced up tightly, but they barely contained what was beneath.

 

Mykal’s eyebrows flew up at the sight. “A new one?” he asked, unable to conceal the breathless rush or the way his cock jumped.

 

Roul smiled and took the end of the cord between a finger and a thumb. He waited a few torturous moments before he pulled with a flourish and released the great leather dildo, keeping his eyes on Mykal all the while. 

 

Mykal gazed at it in awe. It was vast, truly, larger than any others in Roul’s collection, so large and heavy that it tugged visibly at the straps that kept it anchored at Roul’s hips. It was dyed a vivid blue, and a pair of large balls in the same color hung beneath it.

 

Roul slipped his breeches down, put his hands on his narrow hips, and wiggled a little from side to side. The dildo swayed hypnotically, and even the balls jiggled. He grinned at Mykal. “How do you like it, my love?”

 

There was nothing in the world that Mykal wanted more at that moment than to drop to his knees and put his mouth around that monster, but he could not think of the words. Instead, he groaned quietly and clenched his fists to avoid touching himself.

 

Roul laughed. “I thought you’d like it,” he said, still swaying. “Fine lambskin, stuffed with wool, and there are small stone weights in the tip and the balls.” He delicately spread his fingers around the base. “Thoroughly waxed, easy to clean, soft enough to tie back and hard enough to stand on its own. Expensive, but I think it shall be well worth it.”

 

Mykal could only nod, unable to take his eyes off of it.

 

“Well, on the bed then,” Roul said conversationally. “I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”

 

Mykal dropped himself onto the bed without any hesitation, his legs draped over the end at mid-thigh. He was breathing deeply, his torso expanding to fill the corset, and with that came an increasing feeling of need. He had to breathe harder in this position to get the air he needed, and the movement of his chest above the edge of the corset was mesmerizing. The lace fluttered gently, brushing over his nipples with a feathery touch. He felt his cock twitch in response. 

 

Roul took Mykal’s right boot in hand with a theatrical flourish. He lifted it up until Mykal’s ankle was resting on his shoulder before pressing his lips to the inside of the calf. Mykal watched in wordless awe as he set his teeth—gently, Roul was ever conscious of their clothing—sucked, and then pulled away with an obscene  _ pop _ , leaving a wet mark on the black leather, and just the slightest impression of his front teeth, quickly fading. He gave Mykal a wide, self-satisfied smile. 

 

Then those clever fingers were rubbing Mykal’s thigh, following the seam of his trousers down into the boot, slipping beneath, and slowly, torturously slowly, painstakingly,  _ slowly,  _ he began to peel down the leg of his boot. Every inch of calf revealed was an inch that Roul had to massage with talented fingers and kiss with talented mouth, but eventually, he reached Mykal’s ankle, where the trousers ended, and his lips touched skin. He paused then and made eye contact. Mykal gazed in breathless wonder as his lover slid his hips forward, leather dildo in hand, and then let the blue cock and balls rest on top of Mykal’s.

 

The weight was exquisite. The leather was warm from having been in Roul’s hand, and it settled beautifully over Mykal’s painfully hard cock. Next to that bulge, which Mykal considered quite respectable for his body, its size seemed almost farcical, far too large for Roul’s bony frame, but it made Mykal’s gut clench all the same, and the next noise to escape him was a high-pitched, involuntary whine.

 

Roul looked absolutely delighted, but said nothing, and continued removing Mykal’s boot bit by torturous bit. When it finally slipped free, he set it down on the floor, gave Mykal’s foot a quick kiss, and started again in the middle of Mykal’s left leg.

 

By the time Roul had kissed all the way down to Mykal’s foot and set the left boot on the floor next to the first one, the big man was panting. He tried to contain himself, but his hips were shifting erratically, and he could see and smell wetness on the inside of Roul’s thighs. There was a small wet patch in his own trousers where his cock was throbbing desperately, and the way the wet fabric clung to the tip of his cock only made everything that much more intense, showcasing the depth of his need. It was well past time for Roul to  _ do  _ something to him already, but it was coming at last.

 

Instead of unlacing Mykal’s trousers as expected, Roul leaned over him. The dildo pressed thick and heavy between their bodies, and Roul’s long-fingered hands rested on Mykal’s muscled arms. “Look at you,” Roul breathed. “Oh, you’re absolutely exquisite, my love.  _ Look  _ at you.” He leaned down a little and gave Mykal a soft kiss with a light touch. “Stunning. Gorgeous. Very easily the finest sight I’ve ever seen. Were I a painter, this is doubtless how I’d have you pose for portrait. Wearing this lovely corset—it  _ does  _ frame your tits beautifully.” He kissed a nipple through the ruffled lace. “And, of course, hard and ready. Look at you, dripping for it.” He gave a short, sudden thrust that slapped the dildo’s balls up against Mykal’s, and smiled at the harsh gasp that it produced. “Exquisite. Absolutely, unfailingly exquisite.”

 

He lowered himself gently, coming closer and closer until the weight of his body was draped along Mykal’s, and his lips were inches away. A thick, dark curl hung down his smooth cheekbone. “Are you ready, my love?”

 

“Roul,” Mykal whispered, “I swear on all the saints, if you don’t do something soon, you won’t be in this bed again for a month at least.” 

 

Roul laughed and gave Mykal a little nip on the nose. “Well, with that motivation, there’s only one thing to be done.” He pushed himself swiftly back up and gazed at Mykal appraisingly for a moment before hooking his thumbs around the trousers and pulling them down with ease. Mykal lifted his hips to help, and they were soon off, but Roul, of  _ fucking course,  _ took his time folding them and setting them carefully on a chair, and when he came back, instead of ripping the breeches off, as Mykal dearly wished for him to do, he stood between Mykal’s invitingly spread thighs, frowning.

 

_ “What?”  _ Mykal said, exasperated.

 

“Well,” Roul said, “it seems a shame to have your tits so neatly framed, and then nothing whatever about your lovely cock.” He flashed a sharp grin. “I believe I’ll need to send for another gift for you very soon, but for today… hmm.” 

 

Mykal let his head rest against the mattress.  _ “Roul,”  _ he groaned. “You must have a dozen ideas.”

 

“Oh, well, naturally, but it’s a matter of selecting just one.”

 

Mykal canted his hips upward, displaying himself as well as he could while still in his breeches. “Would you just pick one?” He hesitated briefly, then slid a hand beneath himself, around his back, and squeezed a generous handful of his rear. “Come, love, please.”

 

Roul sighed, and Mykal was infinitely gratified to hear a little shakiness in it. “Oh, as you like, then, my love. I shall rush into the situation, woefully unprepared, and we shall both suffer the consequences.” He dropped dramatically to one knee between Mykal’s thighs and swatted away the grasping hand. Then he leaned over and took hold of the cord holding Mykal’s breeches on, but instead of undoing the knot with a swift tug, he pulled the other direction, and the cord tightened.

 

Mykal gave a little yelp of surprise and popped up to his elbows instinctively. The corset made bending more difficult.

 

“You can watch, of course, my love,” Roul said dismissively. He tugged the cord just a touch tighter, making Mykal’s hard length stand out even more against the linen. “You look so lovely in the corset, as you seem to agree, and it seems to me that, given the chance, we ought to apply the principle elsewhere.” 

 

The cord pulled closer, and Mykal felt it begin to dig into his cock. He moaned, but it wasn’t painful. He got the distinct sensation that it very well could be, but at the moment, it was just firm pressure in ribbons across his cock, and it was not at all unpleasant. It trapped him in place, and as the cord tightened further, the feeling grew more intense.

 

“Yes,” Roul murmured, “yes, I know exactly what I’ll commission for you. It’ll be a little pair of chausses, very short, and instead of being laced to a belt, they’ll lace to each other.” He used one long finger to draw a line that looped around Mykal’s hips just above his cock. “They’ll sit here, and come down no further than the middle of your thigh, and they’ll lace across the middle.” He traced the finger from the first line, down Mykal’s cock, over his balls, and past his ass until he touched the line again in the back. “All through here, you see, shall be eyelets, and we shall lace it in sections, with as much or as little of you accessible as we like.” He gave the cord a single sharp tug, and Mykal groaned. “A little cincher, my love, for your gorgeous cock, and your lovely balls, and your beautiful ass. In blue velvet, to match the corset, and you shall look stunning beyond measure.”

 

Mykal was beyond words. His hips were off the mattress, in the air, following Roul’s fingers as they pulled the cord ever tighter, his eyes were closed, and he wasn’t even trying to picture whatever Roul was planning. He was torn between wanting Roul to keep tugging, just to see what would happen as the cord pulled taut over his cock, and wanting to shove himself deep into Roul’s overly talkative mouth and fuck those sweet lips until he spilled himself.

 

Fortunately, he was spared the agony of decision, as Roul released the cord and yanked the breeches off in one swift movement. His cock, released at last, stood out desperately, and he groaned loudly.

 

Roul sat back a little and gazed at Mykal’s groin with obvious appreciation. “Oh, my love, perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He stood and looked for a time from that angle, nodding in approval. “Flawless. There’s not a touch of you I’d change.” A drop of clear liquid slid down Mykal’s cock and came to rest on his belly, accompanied by a whine, and Roul laughed. “All right, then, all right.”

 

He spread Mykal’s legs a little further, took a finger in his mouth and sucked it until it dripped, and then eased it ever so gently into his lover’s ass. Mykhal squeezed hard around it, and Roul’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s this, then, my love? So excited?” He probed further. “Oh, you’re soft today. Absolutely silken. And—” He paused, and then, with infinite care, pressed a second finger against Mykal’s entrance. His jaw dropped when it slid in without trouble. “My love,” he said, voice full of awe. “My love, have you been  _ practicing  _ for me?”

 

Mykal managed to both nod sharply and stop himself from forcing himself further down on Roul’s fingers.

 

Roul obliged him and cautiously added a third finger, which encountered some resistance. “With  _ what,  _ dear? I know I haven’t given you any of my collection.”

 

Mykal moaned and clenched. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Oh, saints. Hatchet, hatchet, it’s on the nightstand.”

 

Roul stared at him in disbelief for a moment before withdrawing his fingers and stalking over to the nightstand, leather cock swinging absurdly. He lifted the hatchet and ran a hand over the smooth, gently curved handle, well waxed and free of ornamentation. He gazed at it in silence for a time before bursting into laughter. “My love, my love, you’ve been using this on yourself? For me?” 

 

_ “Yes,”  _ Mykal grated. His hips were pumping a little of their own accord.  _ Come on, come on, come on, come on…  _

 

“Oh, dearest, that’s perfect, that’s beautiful. Absolutely astounding. How exceedingly good of you to open yourself up for me.” He kissed the hatchet’s handle. “Oh, saints, how perfect. I can only imagine you, nude, spreading your legs, stretching yourself open to accept something so crude. My delightful love, the things you put up with. So gloriously desperate for cock that you put this dirty old tool up yourself. Oh, we can’t have that. I’ll have to fuck you so much more often. And next time I visit, I’ll be certain to bring a wide selection from my own inventory, so that even when I’m not present, you’ll always have something to sate yourself on.”

 

Roul set the hatchet down and return to Mykal. He settled himself between trembling thighs and gazed lovingly down. “You’re gorgeous like this. You’re gorgeous always, of course, but like this… oh, radiant. No star in the sky, not the sun itself could outshine you at this moment. Would that you could see yourself.” Two long fingers slipped beneath the lace and began to toy with a nipple, and Mykal tried to beg, but it came out as a garbled cloud of half-words. “We’ll have to fuck in front of your mirror someday. Or perhaps we can mount one above the bed. You deserve to witness your own beauty.”

 

Roul reached beneath the dildo for a bit of warm slick. Then the tip of the leather cock prodded delicately against his hole, and Mykal very nearly cried out. Roul’s hands pushed his hips back onto the mattress, held him carefully in place, and then he slid in, a little at a time, and Mykal thought he might sob from the sheer, blissful perfection of it all. It was a stretch, but not too difficult, given how carefully he’d been exercising himself down there, and he had always enjoyed a bit of a stretch. And the look on Roul’s face as he watched himself push in was always deeply worthwhile. 

 

The introduction didn’t last long. Mykal was far too pent up for that, and it quickly became apparent that Roul was, too. The lanky man’s expression went from blissful contentment to desperation inside of a minute, and he quickly went from slow, gentle thrusts to long, slow ones, and then on again to harsh, fast ones. Mykal dug his fingers into the bedspread and grunted and groaned his appreciation. He let his legs rest against Roul’s shoulders and gave himself over entirely. If he touched his cock, he was going to come, and it would take Roul a little while yet, so he resisted the urge and settled in to feel the great blue cock pounding at that special angle that made his whole groin light up.

 

To his surprise, Roul went for his cock. It was welcome, to be sure, but it was still a surprise, and he did cry out at that, from the sheer strength of the pleasure that hit him. It built up fast. A few strokes of delicious pressure were enough to bring him to the edge. His balls pulled up tight, ready to release at any moment, and Roul’s other hand went for a lace-covered nipple. It was that last which sealed his fate. He’d always very much enjoyed being touched there, as Roul well knew, and something about the texture of the lace made the sensation unbearably strong. 

 

Mykal came harder than he had in months, all over the blue velvet of the corset. His chest heaved, nipples standing out hard against the lace, and his spine curled as if he’d been punched in the gut. It was white-hot, that finish, and by the time he’d managed to bring his eyes back into focus, Roul was collapsed on top of him, panting.

 

It was some time before either of them were able to speak. Roul managed it first, naturally. “Oh, my love, that was astounding.”

 

Mykal could only nod and let loose a great, heaving sigh. He drew a hand along the front of the corset, wiping up what he could, and watched his chest rise and fall. There really was something hypnotic about that, the way the corset exaggerated it. He wondered how he looked, a big, powerful man in a velvet corset, legs spread, ass gently clenching as it relaxed.

 

“You look gorgeous,” Roul murmured, his mouth against Mykal’s collarbone. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever had the great fortune to see, and I get to dress you in lovely clothes and fuck you until you scream. There’s not a soul on this earth as lucky as I.”

 

Mykal gave some kind of tired, appreciative mumble and managed to bend his head enough to kiss the top of Roul’s head. Then he dropped back to the mattress with another sigh.

 

“Well, at least we’ll have time for a nap,” Roul said. He released the straps that held his dildo on and tossed it on the floor before sliding a hand under Mykal to untie the cord holding the corset in place. He didn’t bother taking it all the way off, only loosening it some before pulling a blanket over them. Mykal’s lower legs, sticking over the edge of the bed, were cold, but he didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive, I swear, 2018 was just an absolute bitch of a year for me. Well, there was some really good stuff, too, but damn, long year, and unfortunately rather a bad year for writing. Sorry I keep vanishing, but here's some nice porn to tide you over in these trying times. Happy New Year, y'all.
> 
> Also, my personal favorite smut event of the year was when I didn't get a kudos email on Christmas Eve or Christmas, and then like two days later y'all came right back in droves. I'm proud of you guys, and rather perversely delighted to know that when you turn your backs on me I can call after you with "You'll be back! They all come back..." in a croaky old voice. It's always been a personal goal of mine to have an excuse to do that. Love you.


End file.
